


Maintenance

by Wildcard



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 11:04:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildcard/pseuds/Wildcard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk's never built a sexbot in his life. He's never needed to. He's got Brobot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maintenance

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kims, the best Brobot RPer I know.

It always just starts out as maintenance. Dirk’s elbow-deep in Brobot’s insides, leather gloves on, glass visor flipped up, and Brobot’s beeping at regular intervals to signify his systems are all still online and functional. The green lights flicker over Dirk’s face, reflecting in his shades, and are answered by Hal’s red sparks. 

Dirk’s working on Brobot, oil smeared over his face, and he leans in to look at something and some of the lube from Brobot's insides drips on him. He just darts his tongue out to lick it away without thinking, then makes a grossed-out face and spits at the floor.

Brobot sort of vibrates with laughter, "Creator. You know you don't like that taste."

"I like what it does for you, though." Dirk smirks, then leans in and licks one of Brobot's plastic-covered wires. It’s just this long, teasing lick, wet red tongue dragging against the neon plastic casing. There’s a tickle of electricity against his tongue; Dirk swears he can feel it even though the plastic. This is the life he gave Brobot, this is the thrum of his heartbeat.

He puckers up like he's going to kiss Brobot's wires but instead, he presses his slightly parted lips around a screw, sucks delicately.

Brobot's beautifully made but there's a clang-clatter when he shivers. It shouldn't do anything for Brobot to have wet human flesh around such a small part of him and in truth, there's no real feedback from his sensory system, but sex is as much mental as it's physical.

Brobot's got a mind just like Dirk, just like AR, and he knows just what Dirk is doing and what it represents.

That's what makes him creak an arm back, twisting it in a way that would dislocate a human's arm, and place a heavy hand on the back of Dirk's neck. Cold steel fingers, with joints that Dirk can feel the seams of, against his skin and going into his hair so carefully. Brobot's made to strife, not to seduce. He touches Dirk and feels the warmth of Dirk's skin, feels it because he was programmed to track body heat, and hears Dirk's heartbeat speed up when he squeezes just a little.

Just a little. Only a very little.

Humans are so fragile. Brobot won't risk snapping his Creator's neck just because he likes the way that Dirk's breath catches as he inhales the smog-steam that comes from Brobot's overheated, radioactive heart.

Brobot's not designed to feel pleasure but he can feel pride.

Something about his Creator looking at him with glazed eyes and pink, spit-slick lips, letting Brobot program /him/ -- it makes Brobot very proud of himself indeed.

Besides, Brobot does have nerve endings. He can feel the scrape of leather against his metal insides as Dirk labors over him. He can feel the smoothness of it when Dirk traps a wire between his fingers, presses down, runs his fingers from one end to the other and then gently, as if Brobot were something fragile, something that's precious to him, tugs the wire out. There's a sense of loss there, a disconnect for a moment, but then there's the touch of leather to the now-empty socket and Brobot calms again, his coding no longer searching for input it isn't receiving. Dirk can't give him real input, not like this, but Dirk can touch him, tease him with the promise of something he can't deliver, and Brobot's artificial neurons are alight and awake, waiting impatiently for something that'll never come as Dirk just pets the empty socket with one finger. It feels like he's stroking a hollowness right inside Brobot, like if he just jammed his finger in, the two of them would transcend their human and metal forms and connect properly.

Except Dirk can't. He kisses the back of Brobot's neck instead, warm lips against metal that stays cool no matter Dirk does, and Brobot recognizes both the warmth and the gesture of affection.

Brobot shifts a little and his wires quake. He can't move them the way he moves his arms, his legs, his head but he knows which of them need to move when he does. He can control them. It's his fault that they tangle around Dirk's fingers, knot around his hand like snakes. Dirk smiles slightly and knows that Brobot will see it.

And then Dirk yanks.

It's a single, hard pull of the wires but it's enough to make Brobot convulse, arms and legs jerking helplessly for a moment as feedback disappears and reappears, programs suddenly starting and restarting all at once.

The overload’s deliberate; Brobot's core scrambles to catch up, processors struggling to get back online after the disruption, and Brobot feels the shock and tangled streams of data start and stop swiftly through all of him. Dirk never programmed Brobot to cry but he makes a little sound like a sob, like he's drawing in a breath he doesn't even need and clutches Dirk's neck so hard there'll be bruises for a week.

Dirk holds the wires in his hand tightly through all of it, murmurs a comforting shhh, shhh against Brobot's chassis. His lips vibrate and the warmth of his breath is swallowed greedily by Brobot's cool metal shell. Brobot saves that memory to enjoy later and then reaches back with his other arms, unfolding all eight of them at once. He's had his 'pleasure', or the closest approximation thereof.

Now it's Dirk's turn and Brobot knows just how Dirk likes it.

It wasn't programmed into him. Brobot figured it out on his own. After all, he is a learning AI and he learned very quickly that certain kinks in his programming stemmed from the original source: Dirk Strider.

Anything he likes, Dirk likes more.


End file.
